


Reach Out

by Niwoomin



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bin and Minhyuk are dance majors, Dongmin and Jinwoo are chemistry majors, Dongmin helps Bin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Myungjun is an art major, Sanha is in high school, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, do not read if you are sensible to the themes of self harm or suicide, honestly it's just dongmin helping bin overcome his depression the best he can, kinda a story of how everything ends well for bin, kinda a vent fic but also a study of how helping someone helps them, maybe crisis scenes but not graphic depiction of anything, not knowing where this'll go but it's not a sad ending, side myungjin, side socky, though there will only be mentions of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niwoomin/pseuds/Niwoomin
Summary: A monday night, a student got a phone call. A boy's voice sprung from the device."Hi, this is the suicide hotline, right?"Dongmin couldn't say no. Under the chemistry formula of limonene and the composition of his perfume, Dongmin noted.





	1. Chapter 1

Morning came and Dongmin was more than rested. 

 

He had partied a lot, which was surprising because he never liked that in the first place. 

Jinwoo had mostly dragged him in, and it went along without any problems. It was a normal party - people getting drunk and more than questionable dancing, but no real accident and weird moments. Dongmin got drunk after two vodka shots, that he only drank for good figure, and also because he wanted to feel integrated to the others. He had his circle of friends, but he always needed to feel surrounded by more people. So, partying was a thing he tried to do from time to time, and whenever it happened, he would sleep throughout most of the party and wake up like a small headache - a lucky guy, as everyone said.

He got prepared to go to university: yes, they had held a party on a sunday, and yes, not everyone showed up to classes on the monday morning. Dongmin still did. He knew he had to work more at school, since he didn't have any part time job, he just wanted to graduate from his chemistry major and work with the perfumes he liked. A simple life for a simple man. Since his second year had just started, the amount of work hadn't really blown out yet, so he could take it easy, even though he knew he had to work on his own. Jinwoo, who was one of his classmates - a bit older since he had changed courses - knew that spirit and the two friends would keep their phone on silent mode whenever they had study evenings, whether they were together or not. 

The day went by quickly: not a lot of interesting classes, and mostly, the lessons were easy for him. He wasn't a gifted kid, he just found it easy, though he liked to put a lot of work into his homework. If he didn't do his best, that wouldn't be ideal, nor for him, nor for his family. 

He lived alone, but he knew the pressure and the need of having good grades. He was one of the best of his promo, so he wasn't much worried. At lunch and the evening, talking to Jinwoo and Minhyuk, a dance major, was normal as always, lots of jokes and funny times, but he got home pretty quickly, like everyone, because most of them needed more rest after the party. 

 

Dongmin left his phone on his desk, he wasn't really much listening to music recently. Some kind of nostalgia took over him, that he tried to brush it off, with parties maybe, or just studying. He was halfway through finishing his chemistry formulas when he got a call. He first didn't want to answer, he was still studying and it would only frustrate him to not finish his homework. He let a few seconds pass, as he didn't recognize the number — maybe a spam, maybe a company trying to sell whatever things they wanted to sell, but this time, he wouldn't just receive a call, he would answer it and straight up refuse the offer. That's what he had to do. He would be brave.

 

He answered.

 

"Hello?"

 

Dongmin heard a breath being taken, a long one, before words registered in his mind.

 

"Hi, this is the suicide hotline, right?"

 

The student is barely able to answer.

 

"Um...

\- I don't know if I'll do it. Actually die. Let me just talk, ok?"

 

Dongmin couldn't say no. This man, This young man as it seems through his voice, needed help, yet his voice tone was clear and precise. 


	2. A cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way he explained was special.

"I'm in for a bit. I guess I've had enough. And your job is to listen to me, to someone, to anyone, so thanks for that. I know you don't care, you're probably a 40 year old lady and you don't really care about a 19 year old boy, but, here we both are."

 

This was the first line the boy said. All cash, not much expression in his voice. Dongmin only thought to himself that _wow, this dude is honest_. He didn't care about honesty or not, and he wasn't even a suicide hotline operator in the first place, so why did he want to help him? It just felt like it was his role now. If he just hung up on him, who knows what might this boy do?

 

"So, I'm 19 years old and I just started uni. Everyone thinks I'm talented because I'm a dance major and I actually am a trainee in an agency, but honestly, I just worked my ass off for it. I don't have much friends, that's pathetic. I have one or two, they're cool, but I don't know, I just push them away, I'm afraid of getting close to someone and since I hurt myself— because that's what I do sometimes, I can't let them notice that. I always say that I'm cold, even in summer, so that I don't have to show my arms. I've been doing that for quite a year, not that much, but enough to me to be honest. I mean, it makes me feel alive.”

 

He took a breath, a bit shaking. Dongmin was staring at his desk, his notes, that he didn't care much about, focused on the voice that was explaining everything.

 

“I feel so lonely, that's unbearable. My parents love me, sure, they kind of care, but they just don't understand and I've been super self-conscious and insecure, the funniest part is that no one ever noticed that. I'm known as someone who smiles, eats and talks a lot, but I fake smiles, I throw up when I get home and I don't talk there either. I lost weight and my agency is praising me for it, and they don't bother checking my arms or my thighs. I just wish scars wouldn't be a thing, because I instantly regret what I do. I still do it so, I'm just a spoiled hypocrite. I just hate this all, I want everything to stop."

 

Dongmin hadn't looked away — he was focused on his pen in his hand, or it was more where his vague gaze was aiming at. His focus was all lights on the boy's voice, his story, that was surpsingly relatable, his hesitations sometimes, but not much regret in his tone. Just a man being frank. A dance major, a guy who didn't want to live anymore, and the charge of helping him landed on Dongmin. A dance major, just like Minhyuk. Maybe he's in his street dance club? Dongmin caught a breath for the first time, a first real one, because what the boy was saying didn't leave the student enough time to fully understand everything. But he didn't want to disturb the boy, so he kept shut and let him continue.

Except he took notes.

It seemed weird even to him, but that way, he wouldn't be lost. He didn't have to do it, but something in the boy's voice tone made him want to at least know his story entirely. He quickly wrote a summary on the page, taking all the space he could take.

 

"I mean, I do self-harm... I don't do it that much. I just like to see the blood, that makes me so much, you know — _no I don't_ , whispered Dongmin —, it makes me feel alive. I'm scared of not being able to properly find comfort in something else. It was the dance, before. Everyone's praising me for practicing so much. But no one's praising me for cutting my wrists. I passed out from the loss of blood once. It was super scary, honestly. I didn't want to do it ever after but dance wasn't enough..."

 

And while Dongmin struggled to write everything, the boy went on and on. Never bothering Dongmin, it was what it was.

 

"I passed out from dancing too much, too. It's less scary. It's much more like, feeling yourself becoming a bit, well, numb, and your head doesn't hurt, but you're just dizzy for a while, your muscles and your stomach don't cry for help anymore, and it fades to black, and you'll know you'll get rest. Waking up hours after to fall asleep in minutes only because you know you're too weak to move. But you'll get rest – _why do you get rest this way,_ silently asked Dongmin – and it feels kinda nice. My parents only know about the dance part, I don't live with them anymore. I don't want to tell them about the blood and my cutter. They'll be disappointed in me. You're a stranger and you're probably disappointed in me. It's okay. Everyone is. I'm just tired of it."

 

Tears did come to Dongmin's eyes, because he could heard the boy's voice trembling, not maintaining the clear and calm voice tone he had, his composure had fallen apart, and Dongmin could hear a cry being swallowed.

 

“And, and, I'm just tired, man. I just hate this all. I haven't been improving at dance, and because of me passing out or whatever too much recently, I had to go to a doctor because I had always refused to go to the ER. Oh, I had the fear of my life when I was asked to strip off a bit so that he could check me. Hopefully, he didn't check my arms, I got away with it. Now, I don't know. I'm just. My friends went to party yesterday. I faked being sick. I thought I'd be fine alone, but I just wanted to die, I felt like pure shit. I skipped classes like I often do today. I love to dance, but I can't get up in the morning or so it seems. I just want to sleep a lot. I'm, I think I'm just, I'm overall frustrated, I thought I'd know love and stuff, I wanted to tell this boy, he's so sweet, kind, hard-working, he's in my university too, and, I just wanted to tell him that...”

 

The boy's voice stopped, and a bit of hesitation and shaking could be heard before he continued. This time, tears flowed and he stuttered a lot, being more familiar with Dongmin, letting out his sobs.

 

“Oh, right, I didn't tell you... But I'm gay. No one knows. Well, except for you now. But not even my best friend, he's a dance major too, not even him knows. I kinda knew it when I was in middle school and high school. It cost me so much nights to cry over this. I know some people at uni are and don't bother revealing it, but... I'm scared. I'm even ashamed of being scared. Man, I'm just a spoiled child.”

 

Under the chemistry formula of limonene and the composition of his perfume, Dongmin noted, in red letters and circled, “GAY.” He himself didn't know much about it. He was just undecided. He had dated girls, one or two, but are middle school relationships ever serious? He knew the boy on the other end of the call was trying to not cry, but the shake in his voice, and the feelings he had were an evidence. A long pause replaced the overdose of talking that occupied Dongmin's mind.

 

The other guy went, “I'm sorry, dude. That must be a hell lot for you. I, I shouldn't have called. But, uh, just in case, can you, well, um, do you have any tips for me to, like, go through this?”

 

And Dongmin didn't know what to say. The guy had asked for that with all his heart, all his will to get at least a bit better. He pondered for thirty long, almost eternal seconds, in which he could almost hear the boy's tears fall on the floor.

 

“Good luck, man.”

 

That's all that came out. Dongmin took a deep breath. He'd continue talking.

 

“That seems rough, buddy. But... You'd make people happy if you stopped being so sad on your own. You can't always fake being happy, so... Yeah. If you can reconnect with your best friend, or others... If you live in a city, I mean, I live in Seoul so, I know that you can have a lot of activities and there are social centers. I'm not an expert or anything, but if you can dance with your feelings and not overdo it... I mean, that'd help you letting it out? If you can have any activity to let you stop harming yourself, that'd be good too. So, uh, so, good luck.”

 

Time seemed to have stopped.

 

“Dong...min?”

 

How did the boy know his name?

 

“Uh, yeah?

\- Oh my god, I'm sorry, I-”

 

The boy had hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's. um. a bit sad ig jgfdkglflklfgs  
> next update will be out when i'll have it finished!!! it's almost ready but idk so eh. still open to comments!


	3. For the moon

Dongmin got a bit alarmed. He needed to know whose this number belonged to. The boy had mentioned being a dance major, and Minhyuk knew almost every Seoul's dance majors — or so it seemed. The number indicated being from Seoul, or the Seoul area at least. He quickly called Minhyuk, not sure he'd answer at nine in the evening since he was either sleeping or dancing, but he could always try it. No answer, and at the fith call, he decided to stop it, and even the texts he sent after didn't get an answer.

He tried calling back the suicidal boy's number again, but he had been blocked in the meantime. Not knowing what to do, he searched the number online, but no results showed up. He didn't have to care that much for that boy, but he would be self-conscious if he didn't help him, and the boy knew him, and sounded so desperate about his confession that the chemistry student couldn't just keep on studying without it.

Jinwoo, on the other hand, answered.

 

"Jin— Jinwoo, do you know where's Minhyuk?" 

 

His worried tone made Jinwoo wonder what happened.

 

"Uh, he's dancing today. He has this battle with another team tonight so I don't know when he'll be back, why? 

\- Oh, nothing. I just need to tell him something, about, uh, about today. Nothing much, but he's not answering his phone, so... thanks though. 

\- No worries and good luck, I'll be studying too." 

 

Dongmin stayed put, what could he do? Could he call an ambulance for that boy, could he call an emergency number saying, "this boy who called me is suicidal, please do something"? His mind went running and running, thinking about the consequences of his actions, thinking about the help he could provide, but how then, and why should he do it, after all, that person was just a stranger, but time was the most alarming for now, what if that boy had tried to— 

 

A phone call interrupted his thoughts. 

 

The same number. 

 

Dongmin picked up his phone.

 

Silence.

 

And a breath.

 

No one dared to talk, Dongmin had too much things to say and couldn't decide on one. The boy, on the other hand, seemed to wait for something. He was the one who first talked.

 

"Um... Please act as if you didn't hear anythin—

\- You know me? What's your name?

\- I... Please, really. Please don't call an ambulance or anything. Please keep it a secret. Sorry for the confusion."

 

He quickly stopped the conversation. Dongmin heard him clearly be shaken, terrified almost, and the broken voice — a sweet, low, desperate voice — he had whenever he spoke. The constant stutter he had, yet that cute, somewhat silver-toned that rang sweet to Dongmin's ear. Why did Dongmin feel so awkward, so useless, how could he retain someone to talk to him? But for whatever reason there was in his mind, maybe because the guy's voice affected him, maybe because that was his compassion, maybe because that was the way he was made, but soon after the phone call ended, he clicked on the guy's number. He sent a message. And waited. “It's okay. I won't talk to anyone about this.” And another. “Do you want to talk?”

On the other hand of the started conversation, the dancing student was still shaking. Why out of all numbers, did he have to call this one? Nonetheless, it was done, he had panicked and blocked him but out of fear he had called him again and now, he had a text from him. He hesitated, in the dark of his room, under his covers, his favourite music at the maximum volume in his ears, for maybe one or two hours. A lot when through his mind, and like that, he found himself lost on various, useless websites, music apps, until he saw that it was eleven in the evening. He should answer Dongmin, or he could call the ER on him – which was the first thing to avoid.

He had even messed up at getting help, but as much as Dongmin had answered, he didn't know who he was, did he? He knew his voice, but this was all. He didn't have to go to the university, he could just stay here for a while, or go to dance. Until they would stop talking, but if it's for just a day, or maybe two, or maybe three, or four, but it wouldn't last long anyway.

 

So, his wrists shaking, his thighs clenched, with his red ears, red cheeks, and the tears that remained in the corner of his eyes, his glasses falling a bit on the tip of his nose, he answered.

 

“i wouldn't mind”

 

He got a quick reply. Dongmin was a bit falling asleep on his desk, but that message, that answer kept him awake much more than he'd wanted to admit, and it had finally arrived. Plain. Simple. Just a text, no punctuation, no capital letters, but whatever. This boy was alive. This boy _is_ alive, as they're speaking to each other. “Can I ask why you called me?” The chemistry student registered the number, simply calling him “suicidal boy”, nothing more, as if there wasn't even a bit of affection or compassion. Should he ask his name? “Also I'm sorry I'm curious, but you didn't tell me your name. Would you be okay with sharing it?”

For a moment, he didn't get any answer, but Dongmin continously stared at his phone, waiting for black pixels to replace the white ones, as if it was the only thing that mattered. Constantly cheking his phone, he packed his bag and went to go into his bed. A few minutes before midnight, he got a call – from Minhyuk. Dongmin was relieved, maybe his friend would help him.

 

“Hey Dongdong, how are you? I'm sorry I'm calling this late, I just saw your texts. What's up?”

 

 _Here we go for the small talk_ , thought Dongmin, because he was really awaiting the moment he could ask about the number, he was sure Minhyuk would know. His friend's exhaustion and joy could be felt through the phone, making Dongmin a bit guilty to call him only for this.

But then, he got the reply to his text. “not really, sorry”, again without any punctuation – which, Dongmin had to admit, made him feel a bit weird – but this text made him think. Should he really ask Minhyuk for the boy's name? He had called him for that, after all, except the boy seemed to not have any will on revealing his identity. Dongmin had agreed to keeping everything private, even though the temptation was still there.

 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called at this time. How did the battle go?

\- It's all fine really! And  I won so it's even better!”  the cheerful tone Minhyuk  had made Dongmin smile a bit. “Wha t did you need?

\- Oh, um... I have a number that called me and apparently it's a dance major and I wondered if you knew him?

\-  A dance major? Like Taemin, Ten,  Bambam, Bin, Changmin,  Soonyoung ? Or Hyunjin?  Or Minghao?  Maybe-

\-  Right, I just, I don't need any name, I'm just, erm, suspicious, I think? Could you just tell me if you know him?

\- Yeah sure! What's his number?”

 

Dongmin didn't have any good excuse to not  know his name, and, as much as it was tempting to know and just say the whole truth to Minhyuk, something made him want to keep that stranger's privacy –  and considering he was suicidal from what he heard, he didn't want to take any risks.

But hopefully, Minhyuk didn't notice anything weird, or he didn't let his doubt appear. The chemistry student quickly sent the number  to his friends , a silence while the text got sent. Minhyuk mumbled a bit, scrolling through the contacts registered in his phone, before going back to Dongmin.

 

“Oh I see! Of course I know him. And so do you. You didn't have his phone number registered?

\- It's fine, I- I have it now. Is he at our university?

\-  What, you're joking?  He's been hanging with us, o r are you-- Wait.  Say, Dong, are you crushing on him or-

\- No! No no no it's not that at all, I just-

\- Yeah, yeah, sure, take care of him if things go well, alright?  He wasn't there today but maybe tomorrow he'll come, and from that... ”

 

Minhyuk saying the last sentence with a  laugh and false innocence made Dongmin  chuckle  a bit  despite still being worried. Minhyuk went  on  to talk a bit  about his battle, saying he pulled a new move he had practiced for a week that got him the wi n, and  that  Rocky was the new name in the street dance game; Dongmin, on his side, was che c king the conversation he had with the stranger.  By this time, both of them – unknowingly to each other – were in their beds, thinking about each other for different reasons, but with a new link between them.

This was beginning to be awkward even by texts, so right after the  phone call with Minhyuk en de d, the chemistry major went back to texting the boy. No more limonene for today.  A notification made his phone ring. “are you still there?”, to which Dongmin replied in a hurry, “Yes, do you need something?”, but tiredness came and made the student's eyelids heavy, so heavy that he almost didn't see the new text s . “i'm sleepy”, said the first. “sorry for today”, went the second. “can we still talk a bit  tomorrow ”,  the third asked. “when u're available of course”, ended the fourth.

Dongmin felt somewhat close to this boy now – in the same university as him, and a friend of Minhyuk, maybe it was this cute boy he had seen around? He'll ask for his name maybe another time later, if the boy agrees with it. This energy, this impulse given to Dongmin, he couldn't explain it; but this made him grow a bit attached to the boy. After hearing his story – his notebook still close to him – and talking to him, Dongmin wanted to help this boy.

 

He slowly answered, “yes,  good night ”, before sleep made him gently rest in his bed.

 

The white-haired boy, on the other side of the conversation, sighed out of relief. He could sleep without worrying much, he had called the wrong number and things went out of reach, but Dongmin would keep everything safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was it for this chapter!! most of you guessed the boy's identity but i like to make dongmin wonder. (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡ we'll see if he figures it out! sorry for any mistakes too,, don't hesitate if you have a comment on that.  
> also i want to find a name for minhyuk's crew but i don't know yet. next day will be covered in the next chapter!
> 
> thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it and want to see how the situation evolves. if you have any questions or comments, feel free to drop one here or on my twitter or on my curiouscat: @/niminkim
> 
> a bit of heavy themes but i hope it'll be fine! thank you a lot!


End file.
